twelve of them?” Giorge asked. “Where did you get them?”
“Does it matter?” Angus asked.
“It might,” Giorge said. “There aren’t very many of them left, and all the ones I know about are in collections. They might have been stolen.”
Angus frowned. Where had he gotten the coins? He couldn’t remember; they were in his clothes when he put them on. “I got them in Voltari’s Tower,” Angus said. At least that was true, but how they had gotten into Blackhaven was still a complete mystery.
“Were there any others?” Giorge asked.
“One,” Angus admitted.
“What happened to it?” Giorge asked.
“I spent it,” Angus said. “After I left Blackhaven, I wandered around a bit. My feet were infected, and I was feverish when I found Woodwort. I gave it to the innkeeper for a room just before I passed out.”
Giorge winced. “Costly room,” he said.
Angus nodded. “We should finalize the exchange now,” he said. “While there are no prying eyes.” He reined in his horse. Giorge and Hobart joined him. He reached into the pocket of his robe and brought out the pouch containing the gold coins and garnets. He took the five garnets out and showed them to Giorge. “What do you think these are worth?”
“Well,” Giorge said, moving them around with his finger. “I can probably get you three hundred gold coins for the largest one; it’s a good color. The other two large ones aren’t as high a quality and a bit off in color. Maybe two hundred or so. The two runts about fifty.”
“You’ve been carrying around a fortune, Angus,” Hobart said. “Why bother with adventuring at all?”
Angus shrugged. There was no reason to tell them that Voltari had kicked him out. “Magic isn’t cheap,” he said. “Just look at what that wand and book cost me….”
Giorge laughed, the pouch of gold coins disappearing somewhere on his person. “I’ll trade the coins for gems,” he said. “It will be easier to carry than several hundred pounds of gold. Also,” he turned to Hobart, “I will have to use part of this to find the information I need on that symbol. I’ll have to be discreet, and such discretion can have a hefty price.”
Hobart glared at him. “You know the rules,” he said. “If I have to hire a Truthseer, it comes out of your cut, regardless of whether or not you tell the truth.”
Giorge pouted and shook his head. “When will you learn to trust me?”
“I do trust you,” Hobart grinned. “I just don’t trust your twitchy fingers.” He winked at Angus. “He gave you back your garnets, didn’t he?”
Angus laughed and nodded. “I was watching.”
The Ortis who had gotten a significant distance ahead of them reined in his horse. As the Ortis a short distance behind them passed, he said, “The volcano is sputtering today. We’ll need to be careful.”
“Ash or lava?” Hobart asked, spurring his horse forward.
“Mostly lava,” Ortis said. “It looks like a mild eruption.”
“Better than a violent one,” Hobart said.
“The volcano’s erupting?” Angus said, spurring his own steed forward. “Aren’t they evacuating?”
“Why?” Hobart asked. “The city’s in no danger.”
“No danger? From a volcano?”
Hobart chuckled. “You’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
When they joined Ortis, it became clear to Angus why the city was in no danger—and why Voltari had sent him to Hellsbreath.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hobart said.
Angus stared. The road continued across a narrow valley and up the steep slope of another low mountain. The mountain had two summits, each of which ended in a volcanic crater. Nestled in between them was the city of Hellsbreath, but all Angus could see were its walls. They were high walls, nearly topping the volcanic ridge on either side, and spanning half the distance between them. The volcano to the west was erupting, lava bubbling out in several places near the top. A large pool of reddish orange rock, accented by a charcoal-black crust, flowed in toward the city, but it parted not far from the wall and tumbled down the slope, adding to the summit. The other summit was silent, save for wisps of smoke. Even at a distance, the crackling and popping of the eruption was easy to hear, and an ash cloud funneled eastward, over the city, where it hovered and accumulated on a large bowl-shaped structure. But there was no structure apparent; whatever it was, it was invisible.
“Why isn’t the ash falling on the city?” Angus asked.
“Wizards,” Hobart said. “They constructed a barrier over the city. You can’t see it, but it’s always there. When the volcano stops spewing that ash, they’ll tip the dome and collect it. It’s excellent fertilizer, and there’s a thriving industry around it.”
“They also have wizards tending to the volcanoes,” Ortis added. “They keep the eruptions under control. Instead of a sudden, explosive eruption, they have little ones like that one spaced over time. It keeps the volcanoes manageable.”
Angus nodded, drawing his attention to the magical energy around him. Normally, he wouldn’t be able to see the strands from such a distance, but the concentration of magical energy enveloping the city was like a distant beacon fire. He didn’t know the particulars of the spells involved—and there were no doubt dozens, if not hundreds—but he was sure he could learn them quickly enough. No doubt they would welcome a wizard with his particular talents, and pay handsomely. If there wasn’t already a surplus of them.
“We’ll need to cover our mouths,” Hobart continued. “And the horses’ noses. That ash is hot, and if too much gets in your lungs…” he shook his head. “There are better ways to die.”
“What do you have in mind?” Angus asked.
“See that river?” Hobart said, pointing at the valley floor.
“It’s hard to miss,” Angus said.
Hobart scowled, shook his head, and continued. “There’s a little fellow down there who rents sheets. Jagra, I think his name is. When he sees someone coming—like us—he takes his bucket down to the river and brings enough water back to fill a trough he has set up by the road. He’s got a pile of thin white sheets that he dips in the trough and drapes over you and your horse. You can see through them and breathe through them, but the fabric is so finely woven that the ash can’t get through it. We’ll rent them, and when we get inside the dome’s cover, his wife Agata will be waiting. She has a similar setup—trough, clean sheets, a line for drying—but their sons have to haul water up from the bridge. At night, his brother does the same thing.”
“Won’t the horses protest?” Angus asked.
“Not at all,” Hobart said, patting his mare’s neck and smiling fondly. “They’re fine mounts, and it’s not their first time here. They’ll adjust quickly enough, and so will we.”
“All right,” Angus said.
“The sheets will also protect our gear,” Hobart continued. “The ash isn’t heavy enough to maintain its heat for long, but it isn’t unusual to have bits of lava mixed in with it. Keep your eyes open. It generally only smolders, but once in a while it will burn through one of the sheets. It looks like we’ll have to hurry, too. It’s falling pretty heavily.”
“Enough sightseeing,” Ortis said. “We should start down.”
They urged their horses into a steady walk as Angus said, “Those walls are pretty high.”
“Sixty feet high and forty feet thick,” Hobart said. “They protect the city and are the last defense against the lava. It sometimes reaches the walls despite the wizards, but it hasn’t posed any serious concerns in recent years.”
Angus shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted. “I don’t see a gate.”
“There isn’t one,” Hobart said. “It wouldn’t do to have any holes in the wall for lava to flow through.”
“How do we get in?”
“You can’t see it yet,” Hobart said, “but there’s a lift. It moves up and down at regular intervals, and can carry an entire mounted patrol—that’s a dozen men
and horses—with plenty of room to spare. There’s another one on the other side. When the caravans come, they raise and lower all their goods in a matter of hours. Most of the time, they have to sell some of it in Hellsbreath on the way through. There’s a fee for each trip the lift makes,” he continued. “It’s a standard fee spread out among all of the passengers on the lift. If it’s a full load, it’s not at all expensive—half a silver for a man and horse—but if you want a special trip, it’s far more costly. On a day like this, we may have to wait a while before there are enough passengers to make a full load.”
“Tell him about The Rim,” Giorge said. “He’ll need to know about that.”
Hobart nodded, “The Rim encircles the city; it’s on top of the wall and runs along its entire length. The top of the wall is forty feet wide, and there’s a narrow street in the middle of it. There’s a bridge straight across the town for the caravans—don’t ask me what holds it up—but no one else can use it. The rest of us go around the rim if we want to go south. On either side of the street are inns, taverns, the marketplace—whatever a traveler might need. The garrison—four hundred men are on duty at all times—are bunkered in the short towers on the corners. They serve as lookouts and man the patrols, both on The Rim and the area around the city. Most of the patrols will have a wizard with them, in case they run into volcanism while outside the protection of the city’s dome and walls. As for the city proper, don’t worry about it. Most people never make